Dreams of War, Dreams of Peace
by Sandorius
Summary: Nearly a century ago, Brandon Raybrandt unified the continent in a short and bloody war. But when his great-granddaughter changed the past, she changed history as well.
1. Prologue: Home

Something that really bugs me about DC2 is that Monica is from the future, but she's a princess and hits people with swords and magic spells, compared to Max who's from the past but shoots guns and rides big scary robots. What, machines went out of fashion?

My first fanfic, and also, I haven't played DC2 for more than a year. Feel free to correct any factual inaccuracies that might crop up.

One last thing: This fanfic is dedicated to anyone who has ever done sentry duty from 0200 - 0400. One way to keep from going insane with boredom is to write a fanfic in your head.

**Prologue: Home**  
  
Nothing ever happened at the stone circle. Well, admittedly, there was the occasional bird pecking around looking for the proverbial early worm. Perhaps the odd fox or two, running through. And of course the grass grew ever longer, as it had for countless centuries. Except that today something WAS happening. An impossibly white light was shining forth within the centre of the circle, almost manging to eclipse the itself incredibly intense coloured light emanating from the stones themselves. _Powerful magic is at work here_, the casual observer would say to himself. And if the observer were not quite as casual as he seemed, if he were versed in the mysteries of ice and fire, then he might muse to himself: _This magic was not wrought by mortal man, but by the power of the Atlamilla.  
_  
The light faded. The blazing power suffusing the stones guttered, then died. And the shortest of the three figures which had not been there before put her hands on her hips and complained to the world at large, "This was NOT how I expected to be welcomed home."  
  
"Now, now, Princess Raybrandt," chided the tallest and burliest figure, clad in an intricately worked suit of silver armour. "We should be glad to be back here at all. We don't know how Griffon's Chrono Union affected our own time. There may have been... repercussions."  
  
"Repercussions?" The young princess was clearly puzzled. "And stop calling me Princess, Galen. Or do you want me to call you the Supreme Defender of Eltrys everytime I need to talk to you?" Irritated, now.  
  
General Galen, Supreme Defender of Eltrys and recent rebel leader, winced. "That _is_ a rather clunky title, isn't it? I told your father that when he created it, but he wouldn't listen to me. He could be incredibly stubborn at times. Just like you, Monica."  
  
Monica nodded in agreement, red eyes momentarily unfocusing as memories of her deceased father sprang to mind. The two of them stood in silence for a moment, lost in the mists of memory, until Monica cleared her throat and repeated her question. "Repercussions, Galen?"  
  
"Oh. Well, time travel is a tricky business. Take Paznos for example. I designed and built her - I could draw her plans from memory. And yet sometimes I come across rooms I could swear I never made, except that a tiny part of me insists that I did. And I am certain I never used the colour pink, yet half of the living quarters are pink." He glanced sideways at Monica, who blushed slightly.  
  
"I am the Galen that tried to build Paznos with a rundown, tiny workshop in Gundorada, and failed, only to see a princess I thought dead return and offer us salavation. And yet at the same time I am also the Galen that came to the magnificent Gundorada Workshop and built a more powerful Paznos than I had ever dreamed of. When you changed the past, Monica, you changed us, too. It may be that no one here today remembers Griffon, except that he was defeated a hundred years ago, with help from a different future."  
  
Monica was quiet as she pondered this. "Then... my father could still be alive?" Her voice was tremulous with hope.  
  
A new voice broke in. "I'm afraid that's highly unlikely, Monica." It was the third figure, hitherto silent. Tears streaked her delicate face. "I've had some experience with time travel, remember? When I went back to meet Gerald... and Max" Her voice faltered as she mentioned her husband and son, then regained strength. "The devastation Griffon wrought will most probably remain, although memories of him will be vague."  
  
Impulsively, Monica hugged her. "I'm sorry, Elena. I can't imagine what it must feel like to leave your husband and son back in the past after so long apart from them. You've sacrificed so much for us all. I wish there were some way you could have stayed."  
  
"I don't think I would have stayed even if I could, Monica." Elena's voice was brittle, strained almost beyond breaking by grief.  
  
"Huh?" Once again Monica was confused. "But..."  
  
Elena smiled, sadly. "You see, my son, Maximillian, died six months after we left."

* * *

"Max?" Someone knocked on the door to Maxillian's study. "Can I come in?" 

Max looked up from his letter-writing, startled. For a moment, lost in his thoughts and memories, he had thought it was his mother, calling him like she had when he was young. Not every mother respected a child's privacy, but then, Elena was special. Then his cognitive faculties kicked in, and he recognised the voice. "Come on in."

A messy mop of long blonde hair thrust its way through the doorway, followed by a slender body clad in a simple white dress. Grinning sheepishly, Claire waved at Max from across the room, and said, "Hi, Max."

Max found himself grinning foolishly back. "Shouldn't you be outdoors on a day like this?", he asked, pointing towards the window. Outside, the sun gambolled merrily in a field of blue, playing peekaboo with the help of majestically fleecy clouds. Birds were singing. Dogs were barking. The very air itself was alive with the essence of spring. On a day like this, some said, if you stared very hard at a blade of grass, you could actually see it move.

"I could ask the same of you, couldn't I? In any case, that's kind of why I'm here," Claire replied, a dark expression crossing her face. "It's that stupid father of mine! He absolutely refuses to let me step foot inside the forest. He says it's too dangerous! I can't believe it!"

"Well, it is kind of dangerous in there," said Max, vaguely feeling the need to defend Mayor Need. After all, he had been a big help when Max had saved the world a few months past - admittedly, mostly by providing extra changes of clothing when Max had needed them, but hey! when a big ball of rock has chewed your shirt off you need all the help you can get. A single father was a most useful thing to have along on an extended expedition into the unknown.

"Dangerous my foot!" stormed Claire, further illustrating the point by stamping said foot. "There are so many interesting plants out there that no one has ever seen, let alone catalogued! What could possibly be out there? Butterflies? Besides, I have the gun you gave me for my birthday."

Max winced. He _had_ been attacked by butterflies before. Big, scary ones. Still, he hadn't had the Supernova laser cannon then. He fervently prayed that Claire would never find out he had forgotten her birthday. "So, uh, you decided to spend the day with me in my study like the filial daughter that you are?" he asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

"No!" Claire fumed. "He said I needed an escort. Guess who he named."

Max felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Sometimes he regretted ever convincing Claire to leave the books she loved so much.

"It's you."

Max groaned.

"Come _on_, Max. You won't finish that letter of yours today. It'll be fun."

Max looked out the window again. It _was_ a very fine day.

"And I packed lunch. We can have a picnic."

Max bit his lip in indecision.

"Please? Max?"

"Okay! Okay! Just let me get my stuff. And let's be careful, alright? Not like the last time, when you almost fell off the cliff trying to reach that _Nessus Kylandicus_."

"But it was worth it, wasn't it?" Claire smiled radiantly. "I've never seen one so large."

"Yeah, I guess it was," Max sighed. Still, an afternoon traipsing through the forest offered a welcome break from sitting in his study working on his letter. And something interesting was bound to happen.

Sometimes, just sometimes, he liked the new Claire.


	2. Chapter 1: To Change the Past

It's been two years since I thought of the basic plot for this story, but somehow, I never got around to typing everything up. Now that I'm out of the damn army, I can finally finish it up. Whoever's reading this - hope you enjoy it. Comments, reviews, flames are all welcome. Ishtin, if you're still out there after two years, thanks, but... well, we'll have to see, eh? 

PS: Eltrys is my name for Monica's kingdom.

**Chapter 1: Monica - To Change the Past**

"Are you sure about this, Princess?" asked Galen, pacing agitatedly around the royal bedchamber.

Monica sighed, and said, "For the thousandth time, Galen, yes. We've been through this already. And I thought I asked you to stop calling me that. Six months ago, as I recall. And you had no difficulty remembering that, too. So why start now? I don't need to be reminded of who I am." Hands on her hips, she continued to stare at the impressive display of bladed weaponry mounted on her bedroom wall. It looked as if she were trying to make a difficult decision.

Galen stopped pacing and knelt in front of her. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he said, "It is precisely because you need to remember that you are a princess, Monica. You are a symbol of hope and leadership to all of Eltrys. The people trust you, Monica! As they did your father, and his father before him. Without you, there would be no kingdom of Eltrys, only a collection of squabbling city states. Please, I beg of you. Send someone else. Send me, if you deem it neccessary. But do not go yourself. Please, milady..."

He broke off as Monica twisted free and plucked a dark, shimmering sword off the wall. She hefted the sword momentarily, chopped at the air twice, and glared icily at Galen.

"You overestimate me and my importance, Galen. Who led the resistance when my father was killed and I presumed dead? Who handles the day-to-day affairs of the kingdom, while the 'princess' is troubled with little more choice than what to eat at lunchtime?"She tossed her head petulantly, and added, "Besides, if I am a princess, then you should listen to what I say, right?" Instantly contrite at the sight of Galen's hangdog look, she added, "Look, it's just that... Arrgh! Look, I'm sorry I yelled at you, Galen. But I can't stay in this place forever. It's driving me crazy! I guess I just wasn't cut out to be a princess after all, huh?" She dropped the sword she was holding and took Galen's hands. Looking into his eyes, she said, "I guess... you just have to trust me on this."

Galen nodded and stood up.

"I wish you the best of luck, Monica. As per your instructions, the court will be informed that you are on retreat in the mountains with only a select few bodyguards..." He trailed off, eyes mutely begging Monica to reconsider.

"No, Galen. No bodyguards. I don't know how the flow of time will be affected, and I certainly don't want to compound any possible problems by bringing an entire horde of bodyguards back into the past."

"As you say, Monica. In the meantime, you will return one hundred years into the past, locate our friend Maximillian, and persuade him not to enter the Zelmite mines which his last letter indicated he was going to explore at the behest of Mayor Need. Failing that, you will enter the mines with him..."

"Do you really need to go through all this again, Galen?"

"Hmmph. Alright. A few ground rules: meddle as little as possible"

"I know, I know."

"No drinking."

"Since when did the bartender in Palm Brinks 100 years ago serve drinks to teenaged girls? Aside from goat's milk?"

"No staying up past midnight."

"What?"

"You heard me. No staying up past midnight."

"I'm not a child anymore, Galen. Okay, okay, no staying up past midnight."

"Good. And come back immediately, you hear?"

"I know all that, Galen."

Galen hugged Monica, giving Monica a mild shock. Galen wasn't given to explicit displays of emotion. "Just come back safely, Monica. I still can't feel good about this, even though I agree we owe it to Max. Just do what you have to, and come back."

Monica nodded and hugged him back.

"I'll be careful, I promise," she said. Picking up her sword, she held up her Atlamillia. "See you later, Galen!" A raging tornado of blue light spilled from the jewel.

"We'll be waiting for you!" shouted Galen as he shielded his eyes from the blinding light. "And don't screw up!"


	3. Chapter 2: Zelmite Mines

I don't remember a lot of Chapter 8, so think of it as artistic license.

**Chapter 2: Maximillian - Zelmite Mines**

It had not been a good day for Max.

He had been woken up early in the morning by a messenger, bearing a request for him to meet Mayor Need at once. Naturally, he had dressed and sprinted to the town hall, visions of impending monster sieges or various natural disasters lending an extra impetus to his footsteps. In what was to set the tone for the day ahead, he had then been left cooling his heels outside the mayor's office for half an hour without so much as an outdated magazine to pass the time. It had turned out the mayor needed more Zelmite to keep Blackstone One running, and naturally enough, needed someone to find more. And what more perfect choice than Palm Brinks' resident deputy mechanic?

"You understand, Max, don't you?" pleaded Mayor Need. The past few months had not been kind to him - he seemed much older to Max, and his hair was thinning rapidly. The job of provincial backwater town mayor had suited him perfectly, but after the 'Griffon Incident' (also known as the 'Time Wars', or the 'Day of Destruction', or many other farfectched names. No one had settled on a proper name for what had happened six months ago), Palm Brinks had become one of the few remaining settlements on the entire continent, and his responsibilities were commensurately greater. "We need to keep that train running. Without it, our trade with the outside world would be cut off. The entire world could collapse back into a state of technological barbarism if not for what we're exporting. And as for us, well, if food stops flowing in..."

"You couldn't very well send Cedric out on this job, now could you?" Max sighed. "He's too old and cranky. Besides, I'm the only one with experience fighting monsters in this town. It's just that... the old Zelmite mines, you said? It's a maze down there, and I've heard the stories why the original miners abandoned it. Too many monsters. Big, scary ones with lots of teeth."

Mayor Need looked only slightly relieved at Max's understanding.

"Actually, Max, there is someone else willing to go down into the mines with you," he said.

"Oh?" Max's curiosity was piqued.

"As a matter of fact, she was quite insistent that she be allowed to go. And I assure you she is quite proficient with..."

"NO WAY! Are you talking about Claire, Mayor? Your daughter?"

"Indeed I am, Max. As you know, her gunnery skills have much improved..."

"You _can't_ be serious." Max said disbelievingly. "Those are the old Zelmite mines we're talking about, Mayor Need. They are _dangerous_. And you want your daughter to go into that hellhole? What kind of parent are you?"

Mayor Need sagged in his chair and massaged his temples. Tiredly, he said, "As much as it is a disservice to my daughter to send her into the mines, it would be a much greater disservice to you if I were to send you alone into the mines without any backup of any kind. And this town needs that ore - without it, Palm Brinks will not survive a month. I do not know how many of the citizenry can survive the trek through the mountains to more hospitable climes, but I doubt many will. I do not have any choice in the matter, Maximillian."

Max thought for a while. It was true that going alone into the mines was a great deal more dangerous than going with a partner - he could remember a few times when he had to be carried back to camp by Monica, way back when they were trying to save the world. But still... Claire?

He stood up, and said, "I appreciate the offer of help, Mayor Need, but it will not be neccessary. In fact, she may even be a hindrance to me in the Zelmite mines." Was it his imagination, or was there a flicker of relief in the mayor's eyes? "There's not much point in having her along. I shall begin immediately." He turned to leave and was frozen by the sight of Claire standing in the doorway. How long had she been there? He had never seen her dressed like this before, in jeans and a T-shirt.

"A hindrance, eh?" she spat at him. Certainly he had never had her angry at him like this before. Her eyes were like frozen fire lancing deep into him. "Well, I hope you die in those mines! Then I'll never have to see you again, you... you..." She sputtered to a halt, and then turned and fled.

Max stood rooted to the spot, at a loss for words. She had never blown up at him before. Why over this? Didn't she know it was dangerous down there?

Mayor Need coughed and broke his reverie. "Don't worry about it, Max. She does that to me sometimes, too. I would stay out of her way for the next few days, if I were you."

Max nodded, and started for the door.

"Oh, and one more thing, Max. Thank you. For everything."

* * *

Outside the mayor's office, Max paused for a while, and briefly considered disregarding the Mayor's advice and apologizing to Claire. Still, her father would know best, wouldn't he? He'd have plenty of time to apologize after he got the ore from the old Zelmite mine. 


	4. Chapter 3: Reunion

Don't worry, plot will pick up soon.

Anyway, thanks for the review, Nashin!

* * *

**Chapter 3: Monica - Reunion  
**

The Zelmite mines weren't what Monica was expecting.

Of course, it was a _mine_, after all. All mines were dark tunnels in the earth. It wasn't as if she hadn't come prepared - she had a few torches in her backpack, and she could always rely on her magic to provide some light - but somehow, in her mind's eye, she had pictured a more... artificial mine. Timbers girding the roof. Abandoned, rusty mine carts. Cobwebs had figured largely in her imagination.

Certainly she hadn't expected to see a cave that looked as if no humans had set foot in it for a thousand years. Nor had she expected the deathly silence. It was pristine. Untouched. Except that - Monica looked carefully - there had been timbers here once. And a track. It looked as if someone, or something, had removed them. The fleeing miners, from so long ago? Monica doubted it very much.

If there were spiders lurking here, they wouldn't bother with building cobwebs. They probably ate people alive. In one bite.

Still, she had a job to do. No one should have to die in these dark, dank caves, alone; least of all, her friend Maximillian. After all, he had saved the world, hadn't he? And as luck would have it - she heard footsteps from around the corner.

"_Aargh_!" She was momentarily blinded by a beam of intense light, and threw up her arms to shield her eyes.

"Monica? Is that you?" asked a voice from somewhere behind the light. Yes, it was definitely Max. How many other red-haired girls were there in the vicinity carrying big, scary black swords? He hadn't lost his talent for inane chatter, that was for sure.

Still, that was one of the more endearing things about him. Endearing and annoying, by turns. Still with her arms covering her face, she said, "Hi, Max. Um, could you turn down the light a little? I can't see anything."

"Oh! Sorry. I thought you might be a monster, when I heard sounds from around the corner." She heard a 'click' and the volume of light flooding the passageway lessened appreciably. She thought she heard him mutter, "Or Claire." Maybe it was her imagination. From what she remembered, Claire had rarely, if ever, left Blackstone One. What would Claire be doing down here?

"Claire?" she asked, curiously. He was _still_ dressed in that obnoxious outfit of his he called his 'working costume'. At least he had traded in that floppy beret of his for a mining helmet. Practical, but only a slight improvement. Max had no fashion sense whatsoever.

Max looked embarrassed and shuffled from foot to foot. "It's kind of a long story. This probably isn't the best place to talk about it. What are you doing down here anyway?"

If he thought such a transparent attempt to change topic would succeed, he was wrong. Still, it was his own business if he wanted to get involved with a skinny little mouse like Claire. Was that a twinge of jealousy she felt? She forced her mind to the job at hand. Ah, yes. Her cover story.

"Oh, that. You see, it was getting boring back in the royal palace. Paperwork and stuff, you know how it is. So I decided to come back and help you out in these mines. It'll be just like old times!"

"Oh?" Max looked skeptical and thoughtful at the same time. "Hmmm..."

"What are you waiting for, slowpoke? Aren't you supposed to be looking for Zelmite or something?" Monica slapped Max on the back. "C'mon, let's go!"

"Monica," Max was biting his lip, but at the same time fixing her with an intent stare. "I was killed in these mines, wasn't I?"

Monica sagged against the wall. "Aw, damn," she said. "You figured it out."

Max shrugged, his voice artificially light. "You always pop up whenever I'm in trouble. Remember the first time we met? I thought you were my guardian angel or something." It was just like him to make light of a situation like this. He stopped for a while, obviously overcome with emotion. "I... I... thanks, Monica. Really. I don't know what to say. Risking your own timeline like this..."

Monica felt a little embarrassed. She retorted, "Yeah, well, this is a one time offer, Max, so don't get too cocky. I just figured I owed you something for saving the world." Punching Max lightly on the shoulder, she said, "So are we going to get this Zelmite or are we going to stand around here all day?"

"Huh? Oh!" Max was still a little spaced out. Still, Monica figured, it wasn't everyday that one came face to face with evidence of one's own mortality. He was probably coping extraordinarily well. After all, she was his guardian angel, wasn't she? Max started walking down the mine tunnel. "The Zelmite ore. Alright, Monica, let's go. And, err, thanks. I mean..."

"Get over it already! Think of it as a favour between friends. And your mother says the quality of your letters is dropping."

"What? I spend an hour every day on them!"

"Oh? 'Dearest mummy, I'm going to the old Zelmite mines to find some ore.' What kind of sad excuse of a letter is that? Couldn't you have written something more?"

"I was going to finish it after I got back!"

"Hmmph. Couldn't you have written more? Like why you wanted ore? Or a simple 'I love you'?"

"I was in a hurry! Stop walking so fast!"

"Riiight. 'In a hurry' he says. And then he strolls around the these mines happy as anything."

"It's not my fault I have shorter legs than you! And how was I to know that would be my last letter?"

"My point exactly. You should treat every letter..."

"Watch out!"

And they got their Zelmite ore. Eventually.


End file.
